"Run, pig, run" is the motto of this pork-centric restaurant from 50 Eggs Inc. Though the opening of Swine Southern Table & Bar might be extremely bad news for the oinkers of the world, it's cause for celebration in the City Beautiful. After all, in a town once known for having more bridal shops than brides per capita, it's nice to know you can walk into a place and get a heaping portion of fall-off-the-bone pig flesh and a good, stiff drink. Swine is bathed in warm amber lighting — the kind that makes everything sepia-toned, like an old postcard. Try dining on the second floor, overlooking the communal table. The decibel level is high on a Friday evening, when every seat is filled with petite women in designer finery tearing into dry-rubbed and smoked Memphis-style ribs ($32) and devouring hunks of bovine goodness in the form of Black Angus burnt ends ($16) served on butcher paper to sop up the juices. The accompanying men gladly pick up the tab to watch their dates lose themselves in a feeding frenzy filled with such raw carnal pleasure. To wash down all of this meaty goodness, the bar program features plenty of good Kentucky bourbon, including the cultish Pappy Van Winkle collection. Don't think Swine is inelegant, however. Everything in this room has a pedigree — from the shelves, made of reclaimed barn wood, to the photographs depicting Mississippi blues culture by photojournalist Bill Steber, to the iron machinery parts hanging on the wall. Swine may be rough around the edges, but there's a diamond hiding inside — and it's made of bacon.